


in my imagination you're waiting, lying on your side

by getmean



Series: crimson and clover, over and over [2]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, First Time Bottoming, Love, M/M, PWP, Trust, but you honestly don't have to have read that like this.. is really pwp, now this is a continuation of a blue million miles, the three cornerstones of good fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22853482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getmean/pseuds/getmean
Summary: Snafu is making good on a promise made in Vietnam. One of many. This one had come red-lit and heated and not without any question as to whether it’d become fulfilled.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Series: crimson and clover, over and over [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698868
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	in my imagination you're waiting, lying on your side

The sky through the front windows is blue as far as the eye can see, no wisp of cloud to keep the hot coin of a sun from them. Magnified, reflected through those painted-shut windows, burning hot onto everything it touches. Deep South sun, sun that always reminds Eugene of Vietnam, of that endless summer. So hot he’s sweating laying still, so hot that the thin cotton sheet keeping him from being laid out on the bare mattress is almost too much against his skin. 

They’d moved in together one week ago. Still, the apartment is littered with cardboard boxes containing every facet of their once-separate, now intertwined, lives. Half-unpacked, the kitchen counters and the table littered with all the essentials, nothing put away properly or organised. They have better things to do. Better things they’re _doing_ , now that they’re alone with a roof over their heads and four walls that belong only to them (and a landlord) around them.

That is, Snafu is making good on a promise made in Vietnam. One of many. This one had come red-lit and heated and not without any question as to whether it’d become fulfilled. Eugene is on his belly, face tucked into the crook of his elbow and skin hot and flushed and borderline itchy against that maddening cotton sheet under him. Nude, but for the sheen of sweat on him. And Snafu’s mouth is at his nape, at the top of his spine, kissing his ear and his neck and murmuring at him until Eugene has his eyes closed, his dick hardening up against the mattress, so full of anticipation that it almost feels as good as the final event, he thinks. Nothing feels like the build-up, right? The blood-rushing-to-your-dick, wet kisses kinda build up. 

“You’ve done this before,” Eugene mumbles into the mattress, into his arm, and grins as he hears Snafu laugh.

“Topped a virgin?”

Eugene presses his cheek to his shoulder, glares at Snafu where he’s sat straddling Eugene’s thighs. “A virgin?” he presses, like he hasn’t fucked Snafu stupid more times than they can count by now. 

Snafu’s smile is wide, smug, cat-that-got-the-cream. Beautiful and brown and kissed from behind by the sun. “You know what I mean,” he says, and Eugene wants to taste his spit, wants to taste the sweat shining in the hollow of his throat, wants to bury his face to the hair at the crux of his legs and — 

He drops his forehead to the mattress, and shuffles back an inch, shuffles back onto Snafu’s fingers; Vaseline-slick and warm against his asshole, a pressure that’s just pleasing enough to have him wanting more. Teasing. Snafu doing what he does best. 

Eugene summons his voice from down deep in his chest, and tries his very hardest not to sound too strung out on just Snafu rubbing two fingers against his ass, the rest of him pressed flush and very warm to his side. “You do it a lot?” He can feel Snafu’s dick; hard and insistent and pressed to his outer thigh. It just makes him flush warmer, knowing Snafu wants this too. Eugene himself, he’s still mostly soft between his legs; half stage fright and half unsureness, but Snafu is taking it so easy and gentle with him that he’s beginning to perk up on that alone.

“Used to,” Snafu says, and the conversational tone in his voice would be absurd if they weren’t so used to each other. And besides, this is just the beginning, Eugene knows. He’s sure that very soon they’ll both have lost the words to speak, but for now this is comfortable. His ass pushed up in the air and Snafu’s hands on him; one spreading him, the other messing with him. His voice, the slow drawl of his accent, anchoring. “But people take one look at me and assume I take it, so,” Eugene imagines a shrug, in the brief pause. He wouldn’t know; his eyes are screwed shut because Snafu is pushing against him now. “Not had a chance in a while.”

“Fuck,” Eugene says, eloquently, and Snafu smoothes a hand across the small of his back.

“Bad?” he asks, and when Eugene just makes a low noise, he adds, “Good? C’mon, Genie.”

“Yeah,” Eugene manages, and pushes his ass back a little more. “Good.” 

Snafu pulls away; and then, more lube, more pressure, and he’s spreading himself out against Eugene’s back, a comfortable weight against him as he presses his finger in, and Eugene makes a noise that he’ll be embarrassed for, later.

He feels Snafu grin against his skin “You like that?” he purrs, working himself into Eugene, who just moans, helpless for a response. “Can’t believe you’ve never taken anythin’.”

“Did it to make you feel smug,” Eugene breathes, reaching down to palm at his steadily perking up dick as Snafu eases a second finger into him. The pain isn’t much; nothing more than a dull burn that eases up once it starts to feel even a little bit good. Not that Eugene can imagine a dick inside him just yet; even a dick as modest as Snafu’s. 

Snafu makes a noise against his nape, something caught between a laugh and a low noise of pleasure. “Well, I’m feelin’ smug.”

They’ve both danced around this for a while. Nights where Snafu hadn’t wanted to take his dick but needed to get off; Eugene jerking his dick and listening to him talk dirty in his ear, all the thoughts spilling out of him once he’s turned on and feeling loose. Wanting to see Eugene taking his dick, wanting to see Eugene all stretched out and needing Snafu to fill him back up. It got Snafu off every time, and got Eugene off just as well. Warming up to the idea, working to make himself feel a little less embarrassed about it, a little less vulnerable. And now, here they are, a warm and rare Saturday morning with no work looming at them from the day ahead. Just all the time they need to get Eugene unwound, to fulfil those whispered little fantasies. 

Even with all that, Eugene still feels vulnerable. Feels it deep down in that red little embarrassed core of him. But that’s part of it, he thinks. The vulnerability, the intensity, the intimacy. From the moment Snafu had spread him open and spat on him, he’s been toeing that line between arousal and embarrassment that he thinks isn’t so much a line but a merging. Is it part of it? Or is it just him? He can’t find the voice to ask the question, not with moans crowding his throat and Snafu pulling out of him for more lubricant, only to come back with more fingers. Two now, pumping easily in and out of him, and Eugene’s dick is hard and filling his hand now; too big to just grind into his palm to feel the pleasure of it. But he doesn’t want to jerk himself off just yet, doesn’t want to cum just from Snafu’s fingers in his ass, because this is for more than just his pleasure. He knows Snafu wants this maybe even more than he does, just yet. Though it’s a bold maybe. He’d never thought it could feel this good. Maybe he just can’t been with the right person to make it feel this good for him. Maybe it’s all in the trust.

He can hear Snafu’s breath in his ear, his fingers sliding wetly inside of him, and tries to imagine it as Snafu’s dick. Smelling his sweat, feeling him hard inside him. Eugene moans just at the thought, and then Snafu’s two fingers slip further into him and he moans again, louder and more urgently, sucking on a large inhale of breath as Snafu does it again. He feels his dick leak wet into his palm, and stills, and Snafu does too.

“Okay?” Snafu breathes, silence ringing out between them. Just the sound of the world outside, the settling of the house in the heat. Eugene squeezes at his dick, finds himself still hard and wanting.

He arches his neck, far enough just to see Snafu; blurry from the corner of his eye. “Keep goin’.” He surprises himself with how rough his voice sounds. “Thought I came, I’m good.”

And Snafu makes a wolfish noise against his skin, kisses at Eugene’s ear as his fingers curl more insistently inside him. Eugene presses his ass back, needy. “You’re good,” Snafu murmurs, voice thick with arousal. “You’re so good, Genie. ’S normal, just means I’m hittin’ the right parts.”

“You can add another,” Eugene mumbles, face pressed into the mattress once more as Snafu’s fingers start working in him again. And then, because he’s already feeling brainless and so good just from the sweat and the closeness and the pleasure of getting fucked, he adds, “Can’t imagine your dick. This feels so good already.”

He can hear the smile in Snafu’s voice when he replies, low and sly. “You like it? Not feelin’ like too much?”

It _is_ too much, but in the best way possible. He’s starting to understand why Snafu likes it so much. Starting to understand why anyone does, but can’t imagine doing it with anyone but Snafu. Already he feels stripped down just to nerve endings. He can’t imagine what it’ll feel like to take the fat thickness of Snafu’s dick. 

“Gene?” Snafu prompts, hand sliding over Eugene’s side, ticklish over his ribs. Eugene lifts his head from the warm, dark cave of his arms, pushing back again on Snafu’s fingers. Some nonverbal urging to keep going.

“It’s good,” he says, “It’s really good, Snaf. Don’t stop.”

“Just checking,” Snafu replies, and tugs at Eugene’s nipple when he makes another pass of his hand up over his ribs, his chest. Eugene shudders at the feeling, makes another embarrassing noise that he can’t help. Everything feels like it’s being wrenched up from deep inside him. Snafu does it again, reaches around him to press the blunt edge of his nail into the other nipple, and Eugene drops his forehead back to the bed as he arches into the feeling. He hears Snafu laugh.

His dick has been leaking steadily since Snafu had eased a third finger inside of him; his palm wet with how he keeps rocking into it, smearing that wet everywhere, desperate for something to fuck into with how his ass is being filled. This unfamiliar sensation, edging at so-good-it’s-too-much and not-enough all at once. Snafu can cum untouched if Eugene fucks him just right, if he works him up to teary breathlessness before Eugene presses his dick into him, and now that Eugene is the one being worked over he can’t imagine it. Even with Snafu’s fingers pressing and fucking into that spot inside of him that has his dick wet, even with his hand and the mattress under him, Eugene can’t imagine an orgasm from this alone. He wonders if this is how women feel, and for some reason the thought has him moaning and grinding his dick forward into his palm. Getting fucked like a girl. Snafu is so sweet when he’s on the bottom. Will it make Eugene equally as tender? 

“You tell me when you’re ready,” Snafu murmurs, palm warm and steady at the small of Eugene’s back, his fingers inside him less insistent now. Like he’s not trying to turn Eugene’s bones to shaky jelly anymore. Just pressing, sliding, shallow and comfortable. Eugene hums, settles himself up onto his elbows so he can tip his head back for a kiss. So he can rock on Snafu’s fingers and really feel it, really enjoy it. Getting used to it. Snafu kisses him, slow and gentle but undeniably wanting; his teeth catching at the swell of Eugene’s bottom lip as he pulls away. “Just tell me,” he says again, voice low, which Eugene takes as the sign that he’s ready; functionally ready. Now it’s just waiting for his brain to catch his body up.

“Just a little more,” he murmurs, head hanging as he lets Snafu fill him, over and over. Loosely, he tugs at his dick, hard and flushed between his legs; rocks the head of it against his wet palm until it all feels too much. More wet. His throat is dry from the near-constant moan his mouth has been open on. He swallows, throws a hand back to catch Snafu’s wrist, to still the press of him inside him. “Okay,” he says, and feels Snafu’s energy wind up behind him. Instant anticipation. “I think I’m good.”

He wants it. He wants to feel how different a dick feels to fingers. Wants to feel the stretch of it, the pleasure of it. But it’s more than that too. When he’s inside Snafu it’s almost overwhelming, the intimacy. To be that close to a person — just another way to be loved. And he wants that, wants Snafu to know him like that, wants to come apart underneath him now he’s been warmed up to it. 

“You sure?” Snafu’s fingers still work inside him. 

Eugene huffs. “So sure.”

After that it’s a scramble; Snafu smiling and overeager, like he’d never thought they’d actually get this far. Eugene being shifted from his belly to his knees, the sudden emptiness that came with losing Snafu’s fingers a surprising feeling. It only spurs him further on into the next part of this; the sheets all tangled up at his feet and the sun hot on his back, his hands on the headboard as he waits for Snafu to press back up against him.

“’S easier, like this,” Snafu had murmured, low and warm into the fuzz at the nape of Eugene’s neck as he’d urged him onto his knees. Something about the sureness had been arousing; the knowledge that Snafu knows exactly how Eugene is feeling right now. The fact that he’s trying his hardest to make this as easy and as pleasurable as he can for him. The care, the love. Eugene would willingly drown in it if given the chance.

The bed dips. Snafu, victorious with a rubber clutched in his hand, the hard little shape of him bobbing between his legs. Eugene shivers at the sight of it, at the trip his imagination takes him down. In a matter of minutes he won’t have to leave this to imagination; he’ll finally know Snafu just as well as Snafu knows him. 

“You tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he says, head ducked as he fumbles at the little foil packet, fingers too slick to open it. Eugene takes it from him, tears it, takes the kiss he earns as a reward with a smile. “My hero,” Snafu quips, his big hand spreading warm over Eugene’s hip as he presses himself to Eugene’s back. “Remember what I said.”

“You’re making this sound way too serious,” Eugene mumbles, dropping his chin to his chest to watch as Snafu curls his fingers around his dick, tugs at him a couple times before grasping at his hip again. “Like you don’t take my dick most nights no worries.”

“’S different.” Snafu’s fingers squeeze at him, urging Eugene back a little. And then, the head of his dick to Eugene’s ass; slicked up and hard and just teasing up against him. “First time’s different. Wish someone had taken their time with me on my first go.”

That makes Eugene’s heart ache; an odd mix of tenderness and something else he can’t quite put a name to. He twists around for a kiss, and Snafu obliges him, hand sliding from his hip to his lower belly as he finally, finally, presses into him. 

Eugene’s hand tightens on the headboard, his mouth dropping open on a silent noise of — what? Pain? Pleasure? The boundaries are so crossed that it’s hard to work out which is which, and he feels like he’s being split open, overwhelmed, Snafu’s dick feeling ten times bigger than it looks now that he’s pressing it steadily into him. His hand scrabbles at Snafu’s, pressing right there at the base of his dick now, looking for some kind of purchase, something warm and known to grab hold of as he gives over to the feeling. This is the vulnerability. This is the intimacy. The feeling of Snafu’s fingers in him had been a ghost of the true feeling. Now Eugene is flushed from head to curling toes, mouth open on a moan that his vocal cords are too locked up to let pass through, hand thrown back to clutch in Snafu’s curls as he listens to him swear softly to himself. Then Snafu’s hand finds Eugene’s dick and the pleasure overrides the pain just enough for that moan to force its way through; Snafu’s hand pumping at him, dipping lower to tug at his balls, doing everything to distract from the pain-pleasure of his dick working him open. 

“Don’t tense up,” Snafu says, mumbled close to Eugene’s nape.

“Fuck,” Eugene breathes, ragged. His chest heaves. All he knows is the smell of Snafu’s sweat; that musky, turned-on smell he always associates with fucking him. The feeling of the sun like a hot hand on the crown of his head, Snafu’s thick curls between his fingers. His mouth on Eugene’s neck. It’s everything, it’s too much all at once, but Eugene feels like if any of it stopped for even a second he’d sob. 

“Tell me how it feels,” Snafu murmurs, voice low and raw as he finally presses flush to Eugene’s ass, and holds himself there, still. Eugene can feel how much it’s costing him to not pull out and fuck back into him; to not grind into him and keep going. He’s shivering, hands roaming Eugene’s body, pinching at his nipples and scratching his nails over his stomach, pulling at his dick. 

Eugene swallows thickly, and rocks back a little onto the hard, insistent press of Snafu inside of him. Together, they moan. “You feel so big,” he breathes, mouth set to run away from him, and Snafu buries his face into Eugene’s neck and laughs. “You feel so good. Feel all full up.”

“Now you know I ain’t that big,” Snafu mumbles, and kisses at Eugene’s neck. “Want me to move?”

“Yes,” Eugene breathes, emphatic, which makes Snafu laugh again. Giddy, turned-on, his arm wrapping affectionately around Eugene’s waist so he can hold him closer to his front. And he doesn’t need to be told twice. It’s one of Eugene’s favourite things about Snafu. As soon as Eugene speaks Snafu starts to move; deep, slow little movements, grinding into him. It takes everything in Eugene not to pitch forward into the headboard. The fingers of the hand not currently pulling all the hair of Snafu’s head find the headboard again, and he clutches hold, moans spilling out of him at the drag of Snafu inside. 

It’s hard not to stop once they get going. Every single nerve in Eugene’s body feels over-sensitised, and once Snafu starts fucking into him for real he quickly loses track of anything that isn’t this. Snafu, over him, inside him, everything. His whole world narrowed to the eye of a needle; just the feeling of Snafu fucking away at him, the ache of his knuckles from clutching the headboard so hard, the shivering of his thighs and the curling of his toes. His dick is so hard all he can do is squeeze at it, feeling as though he’s been toeing the cusp of his orgasm from the moment Snafu had started moving inside of him. Wet, again, embarrassingly wet from the way Snafu is fucking him, and Snafu moans when he reaches around to touch him and feels it.

“I knew you’d like it,” he breathes, fast and hot against Eugene’s nape. His fingers clutch at Eugene’s waist, his hips, the insides of his thighs as he urges him closer and closer, urging him onto his dick like he can’t bear to be anywhere but pressed flush inside of him. Sweat springing up between their bodies, the smell of them in the air. Snafu muttering wicked and dirty in Eugene’s ear, because he knows him too well and knows exactly what to say; “Wet like a girl for me.”

Eugene gasps on an exhale, mouth and throat dry from panting, from moaning, Snafu’s words shooting an electric line through his stomach to his dick. “You’re terrible,” he manages, and Snafu laughs, presses his nose right up under Eugene’s ear as he fucks up hard into him. Eugene lets his head drop back, cheek pressed to Snafu’s cheek as he gets lost once more in the feeling of him inside. Hard and thick and pressing up against every little part that’s lighting him up with pleasure. He’d cum in a heartbeat if Snafu touched him now. Hell, he’d probably cum if Snafu did as little as _ask_ him to. 

He can tell Snafu is getting there too; the long, drawn-out foreplay plus the intensity of this first time for both of them has him breathing ragged in Eugene’s ear, kissing at his neck, his ear, his mouth, desperate. Snafu’s always the same when he’s close. Eugene can picture that expression of exquisite pain-pleasure pulling at his handsome face without needing to see it. Pleasure so deep it hurts. Eugene rocks his dick into his fist, and then Snafu pulls him back on his dick, hard, and Eugene twists his fingers into Snafu’s curls as he cums hard and wet into his fist.

Snafu keeps fucking him; drawing out his orgasm further and further into Eugene is shaking, over-sensitised, mindless with how good it feels. “Did you just —?” Snafu asks him, voice low and rough and urgent as he grips tight at Eugene’s waist, buries himself over and over into him. Eugene can barely find the energy to nod, just catches at Snafu’s waist and draws his hand to his dick, softening and slick with his cum. And Snafu moans, something vulnerable and wrenched up from deep in his chest, hand gripping at Eugene’s spent dick as he fucks himself inside him once, twice, before stilling, a moan catching in his throat as he follows Eugene over the edge. 

They stay like that for a moment. Snafu’s face pressed to the sweaty side of Eugene’s neck, his front to Eugene’s back, arms around him. Eugene feels perfectly, comfortably blank. Swaddled up in cotton wool kinda cosy. Sleepy. Snafu’s fingers making soft little circles on his belly, until that becomes ticklish and he squirms away, a laugh in his throat that dies out quick as he’s reminded of Snafu’s dick still inside of him. He moans, the noise edging towards a sob. Snafu’s hand smoothes over his side.

“Love you,” Snafu mumbles, nosing at Eugene’s neck, and Eugene is so fucked out he can barely mumble a response. Snafu laughs, and pats at his thigh. “Alright, c’mon.”

They part; Eugene flopping bonelessly onto his front as Snafu wanders away to bin the rubber, pacing back from the bathroom with a glass of water for Eugene, who gulps it down. Snafu is grinning at him when he resurfaces, scratching idly at the dark hair of his belly as he takes Eugene in. Something happy and sated and warm in his eyes, in the line of his smile.

“Good?” he asks, snatching his cigarettes from the side table before slipping into bed next to Eugene. The sun feels stronger now, the room hotter, or maybe it’s just Eugene who’s overheated. Prickly with it, flushed all red from the heat and his orgasm. He rolls onto his back, blinks up at the ceiling as he listens to Snafu light his cigarette and lean back against the headboard, a pleased hum in his chest.

“Really good,” Eugene says, stupidly. His voice sounds rough, shaky. He clears his throat, and adds, “Jesus, Snaf. It’s like that all the time?”

Snafu snorts, throwing Eugene a fond look. “Not all the time.” He’s lit up gold in the sunlight coming in through those windows; catching in his hair, in the gold chain around his neck, in his teeth when he grins and then ducks close to kiss Eugene. “You think you’d wanna do it again?” he asks, leaning back to tap his ash into the dish on the side table. 

“Yeah,” Eugene says, dreamily, eyes on the motes of dust hanging in the light. “Fuck, yeah. I never knew —” he cuts himself off, and shrugs. Doesn’t know how to communicate the closeness, the intimacy all wrapped up in that scary vulnerability. He’s glad he did it with Snafu. Glad it was him who eased Eugene into it. 

Snafu is smiling softly at him, smoke curling over his head as he draws a breath through his cigarette. “I know,” he murmurs, “’S good with someone you trust.”

Eugene nods, eyes feeling heavy, every inch of him feeling like it’s been throughly worked out. Boneless. Beyond boneless; formless. Sleepy and dazed and full up right to his tonsils with red red love. He rolls over so he can press his face to Snafu’s thigh, just for the skin-to-skin he feels he needs after something so intense. Snafu’s hand comes down to bury in his sweaty hair, combing it back from his face, playing with it. Eugene dozes, like that. Face tucked down next to Snafu, his hands in his hair, the sun warming his bare skin.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK you for reading i'm debating whether to publish the rest of my blue million miles mini fics to here shrimply just to have them all in one place and like, chronological.. if i do they will follow this. what a first chapter! i hope you enjoyed! eugene deserves this!


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